


A Dog's Life

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Comment Fic 2017 [75]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Animal Transformation, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:32:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12860775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: Written for the comment_fic prompt: 'Stargate Multiverse, Any, "It followed me home. Can I keep it?"'A dog follows John home.After John goes searching for Lorne's team.Atlantis isn't quite sure what to do with a new pet.





	A Dog's Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/gifts).



“It followed me home. Can I keep it?”

Elizabeth lifted her head, startled.

John was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, smirking. She knew that smirk. Colonel Sumner had ranted and raved about it in private briefings.

_ “What _ followed you home?”

There was a bark.

Elizabeth shot out of her seat and peered over the desk.

At a fluffy white labrador-looking canine. An actual canine? Or just some kind of Pegasus substitute for a canine?

“John,  _ where _ did you find a dog?”

“Actually,” he said, “he found me. Followed me home and through the gate. So how about it, Mom? Can I keep him? I’ll walk him and feed him and pick up after him and everything.” John was still smirking.

The dog barked again, nudged John’s knee with its nose.

Elizabeth stared. “Are you joking? Please be joking.”

“I am,” John said. “I didn’t find him. Well, I did. You sent us out on SAR for AR-3.”

That was when Elizabeth noticed the dog was wearing not a dog collar but dog tags. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yup. This is Lorne.”

The dog barked joyfully and wagged its tail.

Elizabeth sank back into her chair. “Oh, please, say you’re kidding.”

“Nope. Rodney and the other scientists are looking over the device that did this as we speak.”

“And the rest of Lorne’s team?”

“Perfectly human.”

Elizabeth’s head spun. “All right. Obviously you can keep him. Just - do your best to make him comfortable, all right?”

“Will do, ma’am. The engineers are building a doghouse.”

Elizabeth wasn’t sure whether or not John was kidding, and she really didn’t want to know any more. She dismissed John (Lorne the dog trotted after him obediently) and closed her door and sank against it, not sure if she should scream or laugh or cry.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there until she heard squabbling break out among the gate techs, and she went to intervene.

Of course Rodney was right in the thick of things.

“Look, I get that we all respect Major Lorne and we want to preserve his dignity, but you can  _ not  _ go dialing the gate and sending him offworld with a team of Marines every time he needs to do his business,” Rodney said. “Atlantis’s power supply is not infinite.”

Elizabeth stared at the shimmering wormhole. Moments later, four fully-armed Marines emerged from the event horizon, Lorne the dog trotting between them.

“Just - talk to the zoologists. Arrange some kind of - of grassy space for Lorne and a Marine to clean up after him or - something.” Rodney glared down at Chuck and Amelia.

They glared back at him.

The wormhole shut down.

Elizabeth retreated back to her office.

When she emerged for dinner, she found Lorne sitting just outside the doors to the cafeteria. She watched as people entering the cafeteria paused to pet him, scratching behind his ears or patting him on the head. People leaving the cafeteria gave him little handfuls of food. Until the zoologists chastised them for giving him people food.

“But he’s people,” Sergeant Billick protested. He was on Lorne’s gate team.

“Right now he’s not,” Dr. Barton said, and gestured to Lorne.

Who was on his back, one leg kicking enthusiastically while Dr. Kusanagi rubbed his belly. A handful of other women, soldiers and civilian alike, were clustered around him and cooing over him.

Elizabeth retreated to her quarters and exercised her authority to order food and have it brought to her.

She slept badly that night.

The next day she hid in her office - though she kept the door open, so people knew they could come speak to her.

She’d been slaving away over the text of a treaty when the scent of fresh-brewed coffee hit her nose, and she lifted her head, sniffed the air, searched for the source.

There was soft  _ woof. _

She peered around the side of her desk and saw - Lorne. Wearing some kind of harness contraption and pulling a little cart that was laden with travel mugs of coffee, complete with leak-proof lids. Each of the mugs had a name-label on them. One of the names was hers.

She reached for it, accepted it, and saw a pocket on one saddlebag labeled  _ payment. _ When she opened the pocket - it had a little velcro flap - it was full of dog treats. She held one out gingerly. Lorne accepted it gently, then chomped it down with enthusiasm. He licked her hand.

Elizabeth tapped her radio. “John, why is a dog delivering coffee?”

“He’s still Lorne. He wants to be useful,” John said.

Lorne wagged his tail and offered Elizabeth a doggy smile.

She sighed and scratched him behind the ears, and his tail wagged some more.

She radioed Rodney and asked for a status update. 

_ We’re working on it, _ was the terse reply.

So Elizabeth resigned herself to regular coffee deliveries from a dog, and seeing a dog sitting at the cafeteria door, and seeing a dog going running with the Marines in the morning, and seeing a dog being used as a comfort animal in the infirmary, and wondered what else Atlantis’s denizens would come up with for their new pet.

And then there was another disaster, and panic, and teams filing through the gate heavily armed and ready for trouble, and at the end of it all Elizabeth was exhausted.

She slumped in her chair and wondered what else the universe would send her.

Then she smelled fresh coffee.

She lifted her head, peered around the desk, but saw no dog. Just a pair of uniform combat boots.

“I thought you might need some,” Major Lorne said.

Elizabeth blinked at him.

“Don’t worry - I won’t lick your hand this time.”

“Thank you, Major.” Elizabeth accepted the mug, a little numbly.

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” He inclined his head politely and left her office.

Elizabeth watched him go and wondered if his hair was as soft as his fur had been.


End file.
